


moonrise

by fan_nerd



Series: moonrise (royalty au) [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Royalty AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fan_nerd/pseuds/fan_nerd
Summary: Prince Katsuki and Crown Prince Nikiforov have been dancing around each other for many seasons. After several moonlit meetings, they finally decide to formalize a union.





	

**Author's Note:**

> episode 10 KILLE D ME!!! goodbye world, it's been great :')
> 
> ANYWAYS, here's this fresh garbage!! i'm working on a longer fic, but,,, i've hit a slow spot there and. this finished first. hnnggn. thank you, lovely folks, for your amazing support. hope y'all enjoy this. ♥

Yuuri finds that the moon is a pleasant backdrop for dances.

For some time, the younger child of the Katsuki kingdom had felt forced to go the extravagant gatherings of the upper echelon. As a somewhat awkward child, he had often been neglected by his peers, and shunned for being bookish, although his talents with the sword were unparalleled, and he showed quite an aptitude for other sports as well. His inability to charm his fellows left him to become silent and driven by nothing other than his own passions, and he kept those very close to his breast.

In his adolescent years, he had been put on showcase after showcase alongside Princess Mari, who, for all her faults and rampant unwomanly behaviors, is gregarious and beloved. She has many acquaintances, and indulges in opium and tobacco over business much like the merchants of their land. Savvy and sharp-witted, she often takes the center stage while her quiet brother fades into the shadows, appearing later and later on at these events to avoid being scrutinized.

He takes to learning piano, tickling the keys from afar until the sun goes down, breezing past all the women and men who spare him a glance at balls, and then, before the party clears and while the moon is high in the sky, he disappears.

Yuuri finds years passing this way, whispering pleasantries and playing somber melodies at nighttime balls, whiling his days away with crafts, sciences, and swordplay. On what is to be a special occasion,  _his_ occasion, a celebration of his life and efforts and beauty, the prince generates a more hallowed mood than he ever has. People present him with gifts at the throne and he solemnly accepts them, grimacing all the while, longing to escape.

Among all of them, the finest thing he receives is a shimmering, glittering cape, black and blue and as regal as he truly  _is_ , regardless of how he feels.

It is presented by someone wholly undeserving of kneeling at this throne, nominally because he himself ought to be sitting on one.

"Hello, your highness," the man speaks in a crisp accent, having obviously learned their dialect just for this moment. "I have heard rumors of your glory far away in the lands of Nikiforov, and I have come to pay my respects." He kisses the signet ring on Yuuri's left hand before flicking his cool eyes up, silver hair almost glowing in the burgeoning moonlight. "I fear that the rumors of your allurement have fallen dreadfully short. This gift is not worthy."

The prince is horribly embarrassed by the display, especially performed by someone of such high standard. "Please, raise yourself. I am hardly deserving of such a demonstration."

Crown Prince Victor of Nikiforov lifts himself from his knee and smiles, hair falling across his crisp-cut face in waves. "You underestimate your own charm."

And so, on his twentieth birthday, Yuuri finds himself a quiet companion to dance with while he murmurs, refusing to admit that he is dreadfully taken with his fellow nobility's masterful speech and graceful step, spinning slowly on the ballroom floor.

//

The evening of Victor's twenty-fifth birthday, the crown prince finds himself horrified by the drabness of his audience. Generally, he organizes the parties of his kingdom, woefully debating on whether he ought to declare himself king in lieu of his father's ten year absence. Deciding that this would not benefit anyone in any way, he gallivants around, taking full advantage of his position. He is no longer a young man, far past the prime where he ought to be married, siring children and passing on his legacy, but he finds it futile to force love to appear.

Infatuation, of course, is easy to stumble into. He's been infatuated many a time before, and surely will be again. Truthfully, the pale man still looks back fondly on plush lips in a kingdom far away from four seasons ago, hoping desperately that the man remembers him too.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the party begins to draw a slow, quiet energy, and a lithe figure draped in black appears, wearing a cloak he could not forget in one hundred lifetimes. The moon is high in the sky, and it brings a preternatural gleam to the man's entrance. He is older, his bones aligning more smoothly, and Crown Prince Victor must be careful not to let his jaw scrape the floor while he admires the other prince's features.

"Hello," the man bows deeply at Victor's throne, presenting a package so gorgeously wrapped that Victor is nearly afraid to touch it. "Foreign diplomacy makes it incredibly difficult for me to enter your country, so I apologize for my delay in returning the favor."

Victor almost trips over himself, hardly restraining from reaching out and grabbing the quiet man by the wrist. "I take it you that you enjoy my gift."

Yuuri presses the material to his lips, and internally, the older prince melts at the gesture. "It is beautiful." The two men dance until the younger, darker-skinned man must go, bidding the crown prince goodbye with a soft press of his lips to Victor's knuckles. "Be well."

The shimmering material of the cape is just as eye catching as the shy expression on Yuuri's face as he leaves, and Victor finds himself horribly enamored.

//

Victor and Yuuri dance around each other in swooping, extravagant steps. When the nobles between their kingdoms feel the need to gather for a celebration, the two of them seek each other out and exchange gifts.

The older prince learns that his younger partner never appears before nightfall, and that if the moon does not grant the earth with pale light, his small, flushed companion will not show himself at all. Seasons pass with many quiet smiles. By the time Prince Yuuri's twenty-second birthday comes around, Crown Prince Victor is no longer sure what he should commission for the lovely man.

Yuuri waits on his throne, basked in moonlight, his family flagging the steps to the seat where he rests with a small pout. When he sees the pale prince enter his moon-swept ballroom, Yuuri's breath catches in his throat and he fails to speak. Victor's arms bare no load; the only things that adorn him are his sapphire-studded crown and a silken mantle. His heels click against the marble of the castle floors, and the candlelight dances in his irises.

"It is terribly difficult to peruse wares for a man who thirsts for no glory, and who desires no boon," the crown prince murmurs the words as soon as he is near enough to Yuuri to make the conversation private. "Perhaps it is untoward of me to offer myself, but I am afraid that I could think of nothing else."

His fellow prince gapes for many long moments, taking Victor's proffered hand with heat coursing quickly through his veins. "I do not believe myself to be worthy of such charity."

"This is not charity," Victor assures him with a small shake of his head. "It is greed, good man, simply and plainly."

The prince of Katsuki leads Crown Prince Victor to the ballroom, dipping him lowly to the surprise of the audience. They sway and speak with their hips for some time before Yuuri pulls him away to the gardens, holding Victor's long fingers in his palm and reveling in the fact that Victor's hands are as warm as his are.

Words flow seamlessly between them as they begin to learn of each other outside of stolen glances at public appearances. The sky is laden with stars and water from the fountain shimmers in their eyes as quickly as the wit passes between them. When the evening begins to slip into a time far too late to accept guests, Yuuri slips away, bidding Victor adieu. As he goes, looking downtrodden, Victor sweeps the younger man into his arms.

"Are we doomed to continue meeting like this, underneath the fickle light of the moon?"

Yuuri pulls away sadly, running his fingers down Victor's warm, carved cheek. "The moonlight suits me. I am certain that the sun would give me too stark a visage." Without so much as a parting kiss, the man disappears into the night, leaving the older prince longing for more, searching for answers, waiting for their next meeting.

Fearing, more than anything, that they shall never meet again.

//

The day comes when Victor must at last accept full responsibility of his kingdom, and so he rises to the position he was born into, regal and tired and horribly, horribly bored. It proves more difficult for him to leave his throne, and he suffers in stagnation. He becomes momentarily concerned about the skirmishes of the lower class garnering energy and rising to the status of war, but the riots are quelled and he sleeps more easily to know that, vastly, his nation is at peace.

Yet, he is restless. For two years, he sees neither hide nor hair of his moonlit libertine, and it makes the new king lose focus in the evenings.

King Victor's twenty-eighth birthday gala is extravagant and full of gregarious individuals vying for his attention. He amuses a few of them with placating smiles, but his ice-blue eyes survey the edges of the room, looking for the sparkling cape and dark fabrics.

The party begins to dwindle near midnight, most of the purveyors kissing their king on the cheek and flirtatiously hoping that he will seek them out to be a companion in the future.

At half past the witching hour, his glorious dream comes true, although the prince is not garbed in robes fitting to his nature. "Hello," Yuuri greets him with a tired smile, looking more haggard than he had all those fine months ago in Katsuki castle's private garden. "I am afraid I did not come with a gift, but I have been unwell."

Victor's brow furrows with worry. "Are you still ill?" Yuuri shakes his head no. The older man swoops to his side, takes Yuuri's trembling hands, and smiles ever so softly. "Please, follow me. I have so many things I wish to show you."

Yuuri obeys quietly, nodding and chatting with him while Victor leads his way through the Nikiforov castle, pointing out all of his favorite places to spend his afternoons. Yuuri chuckles at his exasperated anecdotes regarding his staff, clutching the king's hand like a lifeline with his waifish fingers.

The evening speeds past too quickly, and Yuuri prepares to leave. When he stands, Victor slowly wraps his fingers around Yuuri's narrow waist and he breathes somberly against the prince's ear. "Stay," he pleads, arms shaking as he holds back tears. "Please stay."

"I should not," Prince Yuuri replies softly, hands traitorously creeping over the soft material of Victor's waistcoat.

Victor leans forward and twines their fingers together. " _Please_."

And so, for the first time, Yuuri spends the night with him.

Yuuri is beautiful and quiet in passion behind closed doors, while Victor is vocal, reverent, and abundantly unrefined. Their shared evening alone is the stuff of base novels, and two of them simply cannot get enough of each other, gasping and sweating and crying for more, more, more.

The moon shapes Yuuri in shadows, and Victor drinks every edge of him in.

//

With this transgression accorded, King Victor pursues Prince Yuuri like a hound. Yuuri makes himself a willing participant in the chase, aware that he's being courted, but terribly flustered by the act. Part of the reason for his unrest at Victor's birthday celebration had been rooted in his parents' disbelief that he wanted no claim to the throne, and had sacrificed his delegations to his sister. The king's ardent fervor makes him even more embarrassed, because on top of doing the unthinkable and leaving his power to his sister, he desperately wants to flee his  _own_ kingdom and follow Victor's siren song.

His parents are patient, understanding, willing to compromise if he will just put in the time and at least commit to sharing the load, but he finds himself torn and thus, he wanders.

He lets himself slip past distinctively tough country borders to spend the night in a castle he has no claim to, enjoying the one night a month he gets to laugh with Victor and wishing that those times could be everlasting.

Yuuri falls deeper and harder than he could have imagined all those years ago, meeting his fellow prince at a ball. Some of those nights, he stays up playing the piano for Victor in nothing but his nightwear, tittering and flushing when Victor sidles close and languishes in his presence while his fingers tickle the keys. Victor kisses him softly at the back of his nape, whispering, "How I long to see you in sunlight, you beautiful wonder," and Yuuri clicks his tongue, lips straining as he smiles.

However, in some manner, all things soft and clean become tarnished with age, and when Yuuri's parents summon him to their chambers near his twenty-fifth birthday, he knows to expect the worst.

They could disown him, lash out, or exile him from the kingdom entirely. The reputation he has doubtlessly received by now is worthy of such action, what with rumors flying quickly among the nobility. Worse still, he worries that he has disappointed them; he is a man well into his prime with an unfruitful history regarding women, and an infamous history with one particularly powerful man across country borders.

When he had been a child, he had oft stolen his sister's dresses and petticoats, paraded about in his mother's jewelry and powdered his face. Perhaps they know now what a failure they have raised him to be by refusing to discourage such habits.

The nerves bundle his stomach, and Yuuri feels as though he can barely breathe, thinking about the litany of lectures they possibly have planned to give him.

Instead, his mother closes her eyes, clasps his hands, and pushes a small trinket into his palms. It is a dainty diamond necklace, well-paired with his jade green earrings and thin crown. "I wore this when I was wedded," she murmurs, pressing her soft hands to her son's arms, "I want you to have it. You did so admire it as a boy."

Yuuri gapes, absolutely at a loss for words. While he thinks through a fair response, his father chimes in and says, "You do not have to stay here all the time. Mari is more than happy to keep watch here. We would not want to be rid of you for any reason, but we all know where your heart longs to be." The King of Katsuki rests a hand on his son's shoulder. "You and your sister are welcome to share the responsibilities of our kingdom, as you currently reside between two castles."

"Oh, mother, father," Yuuri bursts into tears as he speaks. "I apologize that I tried to keep it a secret. I have been indisposed with the thoughts of your rejection."

The queen says, "We could never deny you anything, Yuuri. As parents, it's our duty to love and protect you." The old couple pulls their son into an embrace, smiling as he clutches to them, face hot with tears, his wails echoing in the study.

//

Yuuri arrives at sunset with two cases; one is full of clothing for entertaining, the other for exercise and lounge. Inside of the second trunk, there is an assemblage of fine cosmetics, dangling necklaces and bracelets, as well as a glass-blown pair of champagne flutes his parents had ordered as part of a subtle dowry.

King Victor of Nikiforov is absolutely stunned to find the man painted in low orange beams, smiling softly like he's finally found peace.

"Hello," Yuuri curtsies like the ladies of the high court, blushing up to his hairline. "I should have sent a letter announcing myself first, but I simply had no patience."

"No, please, I am delighted to have you." Victor is still trying to catch his breath, finding the man in his plainclothes in daylight far more captivating a gift than anything he's ever seen before. "You lied about the sun," he finally manages to choke out a response, floored and honored to see Yuuri daintily step off of the coach. This is the first time he's come with bags, and his heart soars at the sight.

"Excuse me?"

"You are gorgeous," Victor murmurs, bundling Yuuri in his arms with a gaping smile. Yuuri's eyes widen before he lets his fingertips creep over Victor's lithe spine, relishing in his embrace and the quick pace of their hearts beating against each other. "Could I be so bold as to ask how long you'll be staying?"

"A time," Yuuri teases lightly, his breath making the hairs at Victor's nape stand on end. Gooseflesh breaks on his skin at the sheer elation of having him here, as always, but this - this amount of happiness with the prince's visit - is new. "I still have to manage my affairs in my homeland, but for all intents and purposes, my sister shall have the honor and glory of ruling our kingdom when our parents retire." Yuuri presses their foreheads together and draws one hand across Victor's shoulder. "If you'll have me, of course."

Victor steps out of his tight hold, only to crutch down on one knee and kiss Prince Yuuri's hands, taking extra care to devote attention to his signet ring. "I ought to be asking you the same question, your highness."

"Well, now we are just being redundant," Yuuri hides his smile behind his hand, but his flush creeps over the bridge of his nose. "It would be my honor."

"And so it is mine as well," Victor echoes, standing and pulling him into his arms yet again, resisting every urge to kiss him while the rays of the setting sun burn his eyes.

//

With copious amounts of leisure time available to them, Victor and Yuuri spend many evenings dining together, simply whispering privately and enjoying each other's presences. Victor and Yuuri indulge in the carnal desires after the sun falls, where Yuuri comes unfurled like a flower under the light of the moon, dashing and confident in the shadows.

They make love to each other like the world is stopped in their quarters, with lips swollen and skin bruised, consummation after consummation filled with cries that they can only hope that Victor's staff will be well-mannered enough to ignore. Yuuri moans low in his throat when he touches Victor, and Victor keens high to offset his tone, both of them near to tears as they spill praise and kisses.

For five years, they simply  _bathe_ in the pleasant company, curled in alcoves together, back-to-chest, Yuuri flipping through pages in his mother tongue while Victor dozes in the sunlight. They are both sharp-witted and foolishly in love, and duty comes to Yuuri like a lightning strike in the form of a letter from his sister, the queen.

_To my brother, the prince,_

_I apologize for the delay in writing you this month. The threat of famine plagues our country, and I have done my diligences to make sure I could allocate the resources we do have appropriately, but I require assistance. Every week, people in the streets get more violent, and there is talk that you have left to the lands of Nikiforov to luxuriate in their abundance. If you would come back for just one season, become an ambassador to peace, I could not ask anything more of you._

_You know how much I value your happiness, and I sorely wish that my desperation were not taking you away from that. When all is settled, I will do my best never to ask you such a favor again, for both of our sakes._

_Best regards,_

_Your dearest sister, Mari._

Yuuri reads the message and cries in Victor's arms for two days before he musters up the courage to pack his things and go to his native land.

He hates that going to the lands of the Katsuki kingdom no longer feels like going home.

//

Every day runs Yuuri more haggard. He endures being yelled at and cursed out of his name with thoughts of the king across the borders, handsome and ethereal in all of his glory. He toys with the woven gloves Victor had commissioned for him the winter previous. He speaks many times on the fruitfulness of land allocations and crop rotation, doling out advice and organizing crowds until his feet get sore, his ears burning with every complaint flung at him.

At night, he writes Victor fervently, itching out of his skin while his people climb up from the realm of starvation. Unfortunately, his work takes far longer than a season, and three of them pass before Yuuri can truly see the end in sight, can imagine his life with Victor's hunting hound and the warm castle he has come to think of as his home.

When the dawn of his eighth month there rises, his sister calls him to the study. She gives her brother a small locket. It holds a painted portrait of Mari next to the retired king and queen, and he bursts into hysterical tears the moment he realizes what he has in his hands. "We had this painted a couple years after you left," his father says softly, wiping his son's tears with his thumb. "To remind you of us."

"I am sorry," Yuuri grips his family tightly in his arms and cries more urgently. "I should have been here. I am a failure of a prince."

"No," his sister assures him, running a hand through his hair. "You are  _whatever_ you want to be. You have always been a child in love with the moon. In love with magic. In love with the beauty of the world, and now, you are simply  _in love_." She kisses his temple and he sobs openly. "We would never take that from you."

"The bearing falls on us, for not doing all that we could to prevent this trouble," the older man finishes somberly. " _We'll_ take full responsibility from here on out."

"I still should have come more often," Yuuri hiccups. "I should have been here. I was  _born_ to assume these responsibilities, and I've been nothing but a coward."

"You were born to rule," his mother murmurs softly, "But nobody said that you had to rule here."

"If not here, then where?"

"That's a silly question," she says with a grin. "One that you surely know the answer to already."

Yuuri looks out over his windowsill that night, taking eons to write a message to Victor in the candlelight, and the moment he sends it for delivery, he fidgets in his seat, unable to sleep for the rest of the evening.

A fortnight passes before he receives a response. Unlike Victor's usual lavish purple prose, the letter is brief and tugs at the prince's heartstrings.

_My love,_

_How I long to see you soon. Everything is different without you, and I fear that I shall soon forget your smiling face._

_I would love to rule with you, slowly, softly, quietly, in our home. In our castle._

_I would merge our kingdoms immediately if it would bring you back. Bring my beauty and color and life back to my side._

_I miss you, adore you, and recall you fondly._

_Forever yours,_

_Victor._

With those words, the answer is clear,  _so clear_ , and he rushes to his sister's office to offer her the obvious solution.

She delights in the thought, planning out things for her baby brother with her pen rushing across parchment.

//

Prince Yuuri comes home to Nikiforov castle in the springtime, under the full array of the sun. The day is one of celebration, as he comes in tow with his family, his people, and arrives at the altar to be wedded, to be one king of the new land of  _Hasetsu_. Mari will be the handler of the government and finances, as she finds being a figurehead egregious. Yuuri will handle international affairs and public outreach, as his stay in Katsuki has made his expertise much needed in both of the merging kingdoms. Victor will spearhead the agricultural movements along with industry, making the balance of power fairly well distributed and everyone pleased with the arrangement.

The wedding itself is private. Attendees include only friends and family of the Nikiforov-Katsuki royalty, and they say their vows in a rush, as though being separated one more minute will send both of them spiraling into madness. Although it is not typical, Yuuri wears both the fine diamond necklace from his mother and the locket his family had gifted him over his suit; the glittering cape Victor had given him all those years ago he wears to the reception.

King Victor and King Yuuri open the castle to the public after they return from the church, welcoming their people with open arms and letting them ask all the questions they could possibly desire.

When all is said and done, Yuuri flops down with the window open, feet sore. Victor lies next to him, drinking in the sweet scent of his husband bathed in his favorite light.

"I missed you," Victor says, breath hot on Yuuri's shoulders while he undresses him, peeling the new cape from his shoulders and lowering the golden crown from his head.

"I missed you more," Yuuri replies, catching Victor's lips while pale light illuminates pale skin.

The night is long and reverent, and the two men could not imagine a life without each other now.

//

 _Not everything is like a fairytale,_  
_but many speak of two men in a faraway kingdom,_  
_who, through peace, war, and everything else_  
_found glory together._

 _No one knows the full history,_  
_as many details get lost to time itself._  
_Still, look where only one's heart can see;_  
_look where only the moon shines,_  
_and find two rings buried together_  
_in blissful harmony._

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i have NO IDEA what the fuck this turned out to be, OTL
> 
> hope you enjoyed it! keep your eyes peeled for some more YOI fic coming your way, HOPEFULLY before episode 11!! ;A;


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